Burned
by Holly's Follies
Summary: On a scorching day in Hollywood, the boys decide to make an innocent trip to the mall, little knowing that it will change their lives forever. No slash, just friendship. Rating is K  for now, but it might change in the future.
1. Prologue

**Hello everyone, friends and critics alike. Here is the prologue to my newest story "Burned." I don't know where it's going yet, but I'll figure it out. Oh, in case anyone was wondering, the "s" on my keyboard works again! Yay! I no longer have to push it three times to get one "s"! Anyway, on with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately not even the bed I'm currently sitting on. :(  
**

I was hot. It was hot. Heat waves shimmered up from the ground. A delicate haze coated everything. Sweat slid uneasily down my back. My t-shirt clung to me, almost in desperation. I brought my hand up in a futile gesture to wipe the sheen of sweat from my face. My feet dragged across the concrete. My mouth was desiccated, but I never thought to stop. I had no destination, but no desire to go back either. Even the baking sun couldn't convince me otherwise.

I stopped in the brief shade of a doorway. I didn't know what had happened. I didn't know who they were. I didn't know where to go or who to see. I didn't know what to _do_. This was such an unusual state of mind for me. All my ideas crumbling like ashes. Everything was _so_ hot.

I forced myself into motion. The oppressive heat beat me down, clung to me, threatening to drag me down to the blistering asphalt. My throat was parched. I couldn't swallow without feeling it grate like sandpaper.

115 degrees, a record high. The city scorched and blackened, as the sun climbed steadily higher. I felt nauseous. I knew I was suffering from heat exhaustion, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't go home. I couldn't bring this upon my friends, my family. Sweat dripped from my forehead to land with a sizzle on the pavement. I started jogging again, feet slapping the flaming earth.

Thirst was a physical ache. My chest constricted in a painful throb. The heat wrapped around me like a physical barrier, becoming harder and harder to push through. I was getting dizzy and had to slow to a walk. A dry searing raked across my throat. My next breath came with a wheeze.

A black car screeched around the corner, leaving rubber smoking on the street. I tried to run, my feverish brain telling me to get away. I staggered, going down, only to push myself back up. I kept going, while everything slid in and out of focus. The haze on the road became the haze in my mind, and I felt myself slipping. Everything… just… burned.

**For questions, comments, and concerns, please click on the blue "review" button to be redirected to our review department. Thank you and have a nice day. **

**P.S. Is there a way to reply to individual reviews?  
**


	2. Heat

** Hello loyal readers. I'm glad you were all intrigued by my prologue, and thanks to everyone that answered my question. Here's the first chapter to "Burned." Hopefully it quenches your thirst! Haha sorry, that was a bad pun. Anyway… On with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: The usual, I own nothing but the plot and the means by which I harass the characters.**

_4 hours earlier…_

Hollywood was experiencing a heat wave. The highs had surpassed the previous record of 113 degrees recorded in 1971. The temperatures were not expected to drop within a few days, and the nights were only projected to cool off by maybe twenty to thirty degrees. Suffice it to say that the heat was unbearable, and that was the reason that the four of us were stretched out in the living room, languidly attempting our daily activities.

Carlos was playing video games listlessly, barely noticing when the car he was racing smashed head on into a wall. Kendall was "watching" Carlos, or, more accurately, trying not to fall asleep. I was slumped into the sofa reading a novel, barely keeping from nodding off myself. James was the only one of us with any vigor. He was rushing around muttering to himself. I caught half heard utterances like, "My hair! This heat…" and "I'm sweating. Sweating! Not good for my complexion or my clothes!"

I don't know why the heat was affecting us like this. It wasn't like the apartment wasn't air conditioned. In fact, it was a cool 68 degrees in here. We had no reason to be so indolent. I attributed it to lethargy by association.

Our laziness aside, I was still glad Mrs. Knight and Katie were gone. They had flown back to Minnesota to visit Kendall's grandparents. It took a lot of persuasion to convince Kendall's mom to leave us here by ourselves. Granted, it was only for a week, but considering how much begging it took to get her to let us house sit for Gustavo, I was blown away that she'd leave us on our own without some kind of supervision. Maybe she'd finally gotten over her mothering complex.

As I was contemplating this, the phone rang. Being the closest, I answered it, "Hello?"

"Hi, Logan?" I heard Kelly ask.

"Oh hey Kelly, what's up?"

"Look I know I told Mrs. Knight that I'd keep an eye on you guys this week," Ah, that explained things, "but something came up at Gustavo's mini-golf tournament," Gustavo's tournament was the reason for our week off, "and I have to get out there to help straighten things out. Something about a windmill and a clubbing incident. Do you think you boys can manage by yourselves for a few days?"

I thought about it for a second. We had 64 years of experience between the four of us, right? What could possibly go wrong? "Sure Kelly," I answered, "we'll be fine."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Logan. Tell the other boys I said hello and to make sure that they behave themselves. I'll drop by in a few days when I get back, alright?"

"No problem, have a nice trip."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen with Gustavo around, but I'll try. Bye."

"Bye."

I looked around at my three best friends before speaking, "So much for your mom trusting us, Kendall."

He turned to me, "What?"

"That was Kelly. She's supposed to be checking up on us this week, but had to go bail Gustavo out of some blunder at his mini-golf thing. She says hello and to keep out of trouble."

Kendall rolled his eyes, "We should have known she'd never leave us on our own. My mom is so overly mom-ish."

I laughed at that, "Mom-ish?"

"Hey, it's a word."

"No, it's not."

"Is too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

Kendall suddenly surged to his feet, seeming to realize that we were arguing like four year-olds. "Boys, what are we doing? We don't ever just sit around like this. We need to get active! We need to get out and do something!"

"Too hot," Carlos mumbled from around his feet.

"It's never too hot! Carlos I'm surprised at you. Since when are you not constantly bouncing off the walls, always wanting to do something?" Kendall rapped him on the side of the head. "Go find your helmet. We're going out."

The bop on the head shook Carlos from his stupor. He hopped up and saluted Kendall, "Sir, yes, sir!"

Kendall turned to James and grabbed him by the shoulders, to stop his constant pacing and grumbling about beauty products. "Pull yourself together James. We're going out."

James looked scandalized, "Out? Out in this heat? I don't think so. Look! My hair has already lost 10% of its usual volume just by stepping outside for a minute this morning, and if I go out now I might get sweat stains on my new t-shirt. Uh-uh. No way."

Kendall reached up and mussed his hair. James shrieked and jerked back. "There, your hair's already messed up. The heat can't make it any worse."

James yanked out his comb and started fixing his hair. I thought he might be considering murdering Kendall on the spot, but then he surprised me by saying, "Yeah, it might be a good idea to get out. I can work on my tan!" Well, the fact that he hadn't killed Kendall surprised me, not the whole getting a tan thing.

Kendall turned to me, "Logan?"

I got off the couch before he decided on a means to persuade me. "No worries, I'm ready to go."

"Good, let's get going then gentlemen."

Kendall didn't seem to have any destination in mind when he led us out of the Palm Woods. He just turned down a street and started walking. "Where are we going?" Carlos asked excitedly.

Kendall shrugged, "I don't know. How 'bout the mall? We can walk there pretty easily."

James perked up at that. "Yeah we can go to my favorite salon."

The rest of us rolled our eyes, but nodded our assent. "That's a good idea. There's this new book store I wanted to check out. Supposedly it specializes in nineteenth century literature, and I need to pick up a new copy of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ because _someone_ decided to use mine as a hockey puck," I said this last part glaring at Carlos.

He held up his hands defensively, "Hey it was big and heavy. How was I supposed to know the ice would ruin it?"

Before I could answer, Kendall intervened, "Guys, we aren't going to spend our week off fighting are we?" I was about to argue with that. I hadn't even done anything to Carlos yet, but Kendall draped his arm around my shoulders, smiled predatorily, and repeated, "Are we?"

I sighed, but let it go. Maybe I'd find some pink paint and take my frustrations out on Carlos' helmet later. Carlos agreed too, and soon all was forgiven as we listened to James tell some ridiculous story about a girl he'd tried to pick up. In fact, we were all so caught up in enjoying ourselves that we failed to notice the four men trailing us. All I can say is that I wish we'd noticed them sooner. If we had, things might have turned out differently.

**Dun dun dun! Hehe, how was that? I'm going to try to make this story longer than my last one, so this one is off to a kind of slow start. Don't worry, I promise you'll find out more about the prologue soon! Please review. **


	3. Sweat

**Hello and thank you for all the wonderful reviews. It's spelled kudos, if you wanted to know. Got some bad (?) news. A team I was on at my old school did well enough at this competition that we're going to the international competition! Woohoo! Unfortunately for you all, that means I'm going to be gone till I think... Tuesday. I'll try to get another chapter up today, but if I can't, expect the new one, by the latest, Wednesday. Sorry everyone. Anyway, on with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: I own everything! Muahahahaha! What's that rational side of my brain? I _don't_ own everything? Haha, silly left side of my brain has no idea what she's talking about, ignore her.  
**

By the time we got to the mall, we were all nearly soaked through with sweat. We crashed through the doors nearly falling on top of each other to get to the much needed air conditioning. I stood still and just let the cool air settle over me. I sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sensation of cool air washing into my lungs, instead of the choking sensation I received from the almost palpable air outside. Sighing in relief, I took in my surroundings in just enough time to dodge out of an impatient man's way.

"Hey watch it," the portly man said bustling past us. I realized my friends and I were occupying the entire doorway, transfixed by the pleasant temperature.

"Sorry sir," I replied. I shoved my friends over to the side and out of the main thoroughfare. I may have been a little rough because Carlos fell on his butt. I just hate inconveniencing anyone, though "Sorry, Carlos," I said apologizing again. I offered him a hand and jerked him to his feet. He didn't seem to mind and just smiled and shrugged off my apology.

"Alright," Kendall said, taking charge as always, "What do we want to do first?"

"Hairspray!" James yelled taking off. We watched him run around the corner, almost taking out a little, old lady who had been admiring a display case.

She waved her cane at him shouting, "Watch where you're going, Miss!"

We all stifled our laughter, as the irate woman straightened her cardigan. "Well it looks like it's just the-"

Carlos' eyes widened before he took off, screaming, "I've got to try one of those!" Kendall and I turned to look at what had our friend so riled. He appeared to have spotted a mall cop patrolling the area on one of those little cart things.

"Carlos," I tried, "I don't think he's going to just let you…" but he was out of site before I could finish.

"...ride that," I finished lamely.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Kendall said, smiling at me. "You want to hit that book store?"

"Sure."

Kendall and I spent an enjoyable few hours together. We went to the book store first where I picked up a new edition of _The Count_. Kendall tried flirting with the pretty, red haired girl at the counter, but when he realized she wasn't going to stop laughing, he walked off in a huff. I apologized for his behavior and was rewarded with a smile. She seemed to make a point of brushing my hand with her fingertips when she handed me my receipt. I couldn't stop grinning for the next half an hour, thoroughly annoying Kendall. We stopped by a hockey store and browsed, but left without buying anything. In a better mood, Kendall decided we should redress the mannequins in a store front window; we were summarily ejected from the vicinity and the next three vicinities when we tried the same thing. By the fourth store we were laughing so hard we were both red in the face.

When we both finally regained some composure, Kendall told me he was going to call James and Carlos to meet us at the food court for lunch. We met up in the food court and talked for a few minutes, before deciding on where to eat. James had found a sale on hairspray and other hair care products, and had spent his entire two hours debating the merits of his two favorite brands with another hair care zealot. Carlos had finally caught up with that mall cop, but had failed to charm him into letting him take the cart for a test drive. Instead, he ended up in the same hockey store Kendall and I had found, fawning over the different helmets the store offered.

When it came time to decide what we wanted for lunch, arguments arose. I voted for pizza, James and Kendall wanted Chinese, and Carlos wanted Polish food. Seriously, who eats Polish food at the mall? Eventually we decided to split up and meet back at the table when we all had our food. Kendall offered to get my food, so I could stay and hold our table. James said he'd get Kendall's when he got his own.

I slumped down in my sparkly purple chair, and watched some little kids running around in the play area. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, almost as if someone was watching me. I rolled my shoulders, looking around curiously. I didn't see anything. I gave a mental shrug and settled down to wait, but I couldn't shake that feeling. Weird…

{/}

The man in the sunglasses was careful not to move as the dark haired boy looked around. Nothing attracted attention like movement did. As soon as the boy settled back in his chair, he tapped his companion on the arm and gestured with his head. His companion was a tall, thin man dressed in an impeccable, black suit with a crisp, white undershirt. Using a group of rowdy teenagers as cover, they moved from their vantage point and ducked into a restroom. The man with the sunglasses carefully checked each stall for occupants before facing the other man. "Those are the boys we were instructed to… _collect_.

His companion nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He speed dialed someone and held his phone to his ear. "Yes, we found the ones you requested." He nodded, "Yes, yes… of course… Now? It would be possible… I understand… Yes, we'll get right on it. Understood." He snapped his phone shut. "Contact Shaw and Jones. We move now."

The man with the sunglasses nodded. He pulled a walkie talkie from the inner pocket of his jacket and murmured some instructions into it. Returning it to his pocket, he and the other man left the restroom. They made their way back up to the food court, being careful to remain inconspicuous.

They looked towards the tables of the dining area and saw the pale, dark haired boy still sitting by himself. The tall man spoke to his partner, "There has been a change of plans. The boss only requires one subject."

The shorter man grunted his assent. "Which one?"

"That one."

**So I was really happy with my little page break line, it was a bunch of little suns! But for whatever reason I can't get it to save correctly. :( Anybody know anything about page breaks that they'd care to share? Please review!  
**


	4. Combustion

**Here's the chapter you've all been waiting for, and the last chapter till at least Tuesday. I leave tomorrow morning. I have to get up **_**early.**_** Thanks once again to all my reviewers. I'm not sure about this chapter, is it kind of boring? **

** Disclaimer: I own none of the boys of BTR, but I might bring back one of the cute Australian boys that'll be on my team. :D**

I swiveled around in my chair idly. The lines for food today were so long. It was taking my friends forever to get back with the edibles. Bored, I half-watched as a kid wiped out in the play place and started shrieking at the top of his lungs. His mom rushed out and scooped him up; the tears stopped instantly.

I smiled. It was times like these that made me miss my parents most. Seeing the way that mom treated her kid, was a bittersweet sensation for me. I had lost my mom when I was four, as she'd passed away in a house fire. I didn't really remember the last time she'd held me and kissed away the tears. I suppose, if I was ever going to lose a parent (as horrible as that was), I was almost glad that my mom had died when I was so young. I never had a mom long enough to know what I was missing.

If anything, it made me appreciate my dad even more. My dad was involved in research all over the world. He'd worked with scientists from Australia, Pakistan, China, and tons of other places. He was gone a lot because of his work, but it never detracted from our relationship. No matter how many miles separated us, my dad always made a point of calling me every night; he even sent me letters and postcards too. When he was in town, he came to every awards assembly, every hockey game, and every science fair. The last time I'd talked to him, the phone calls had dropped to once a week now that I was older and doing my own thing, he was thinking of stopping by L.A. for a few days to catch up.

I sighed, spinning back around to face the table. Hungry, hungry, I was so hungry. "What could be taking them so long?" I muttered to myself.

"I don't know, but I don't think you're going to find out." I heard a voice from behind me and felt something hard being pressed into my back.

I started to turn around slowly, when the object jabbed me in the back again. The voice spoke again, "Don't turn around, and don't make any sudden moves. You are going to do exactly as I tell you. Understand?"

I nodded carefully.

"Good. Stand up and proceed out of the food court and to your left." I stood up and began walking as he instructed. The two guys, I'd seen the second when I stood up, were both wearing black suits. The one with the gun in my back was the shorter of the two and was wearing a pair of black sunglasses. He was completely bald, and I couldn't help but think he was going to get majorly sun burned if he went outside. I think I was a bit hysterical. The other man was taller and had short brown hair. When he caught me glancing at him, he leered menacingly and shifted his jacket just enough to give me a glimpse of the gun he had concealed there.

I shuddered, and almost laughed aloud. I was being kidnapped. _Kidnapped_. My brain just couldn't process that information. Other kids were supposed to get kidnapped. I was supposed to hear about them on the news and feel vaguely sorry for them, but it wasn't supposed to happen to anyone I knew, let alone _myself_.

I felt the first stirrings of terror, in the pit of my stomach. I stumbled and nearly fell into a kiosk. The man behind me caught me by my collar and hauled me upright. "Don't do anything stupid, boy," he hissed at me.

I wondered how we looked to other people. Don't mind us. I'm just a terrified teenage boy being unobtrusively manhandled by two intimidating men in suits. Nothing's wrong with this picture. I hoped my friends had realized I was gone by now and had started looking. Wait! That was it.

As nonchalantly as I could, I slipped my hand into my jeans pocket and grabbed my phone. I pulled it out and tried to shield it from view with my body. I scrolled to Kendall's name in my contacts list. Typing as quickly but as accurately as I could, I got out: _Help, two guys, gun, south entr- _before one of the guys wrested the phone from my grasp.

The tall guy held my wrist in a painful grasp, but I just glared at him defiantly, attempting to keep the fear from consuming me. He stared back at me coldly, "You're friends can't save you." He looked like he wanted to do more than just crush my wrist. I could see it in his eyes, void of any compassion. However, he couldn't do anything without attracting attention, too many witnesses. As it was now, we were creating a block in the flow of traffic. He released my wrist, but not without saying, "Try anything like that again and it will be the last thing you ever do."

It was the most clichéd line in history, but I knew it was true nonetheless. Whatever these guys had planned for me, they weren't afraid of hurting people. It was obvious in their aloof demeanor, the icy way they seemed to hold themselves above the crowd milling around us.

I tried to hold in the sudden shiver that wracked through me, as we approached the exit. I had to get away from these men. I didn't know the exact percentages involving live, recovered, kidnap victims, but I knew the first forty-eight hours were critical. If I couldn't escape before then, my chances for survival were greatly reduced.

As we approached the two sets of doors that led to the outside world, I saw my chance. A large group of people was just coming in through the first set of doors. If I could push my way through the crowd, I could make a break for it. I was fast. I knew I could get through the group and around the side of the building before the kidnappers could catch me. The only thing I was taking a chance on was the guns. I had to assume that if the kidnappers wanted me dead they would have killed me already. Hopefully, the guns were only for show.

We were almost at the first set of doors when I made my move. I lunged forward, into the foyer and the crowd, and shoved my way to the second set of doors. I heard the men yelling something, but I didn't even slow down. I burst outside and sprinted along the side of the building. I got around the corner and kept on going.

**That's all folks! Maybe I should have told you all to prepare to hate me, cause that's it for a while. Please review! Be honest, I won't dislike you…much… ^_^**


	5. Spark

**Well, here it is ladies and gents. I know you've all been dying to read this chapter. So without further ado, on with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Blah, blah, blah. On a side note, anyone not satisfying their attractive guy craze with just the fics about the BTR boys should really look into adopting a Welshman. Forget the Australians. If you want a cute guy with an accent, Welshmen are the way to go. **

Kendall looked down from the menu as he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He was almost at the counter and decided to answer the text after he ordered. He placed Logan's order for a Canadian bacon pizza and moved away from the counter to wait.

He pulled out his phone and flipped it open. The text was from Logan, _Probably wondering where we are_, he thought. Kendall was surprised by the text on the screen and had to read it more than once to make sure he'd understood it correctly. Two guys? _Guns?_ What was Logan talking about? Was this some kind of joke? Kendall shifted, trying to see the table where they'd left Logan, but there were too many people. He wondered if the guys had somehow put this together. If it was a joke it was so not funny.

Kendall finally caught a glimpse of the table. No Logan. He was starting to feel a little anxious. _Calm down_, he told himself,_ he could have just gone to the bathroom or something. Why would he leave the table though, if he promised to watch it for us…?_ Kendall shook himself. He didn't know what to believe. He reread the text and decided it didn't matter. If Logan was in trouble, he had no choice. Leaving a confused Pizza Palace employee with his pizza, he took off for the south entrance.

Upon reaching the area, Kendall froze. Two security guards were talking to an incensed group of people. He stopped behind them and listened to figure out what exactly had happened here.

A woman in a white t-shirt with a visor on her forehead was yelling at the guards, "What kind of place is this? When I go out I expect to be able to enter the mall without having guns waved in my face! The security here is atrocious!"

An older man broke in, "What about that boy? He nearly broke my hip when he came tearing out of here. He looked like the Devil himself was after him."

A crowd had gathered by this time, attracted by all the yelling.

"I'm going to sue for negligence on part of this establishment's security!"

"Did you see that gun? It was huge!"

"I heard the two men actually _shot_ someone!"

"I heard they shot two people!"

Kendall backed away, feeling sick to his stomach. Logan had been kidnapped. His best friend, who had never and _would_ never hurt anybody, was in the clutches of two dangerous psychopaths. How had this happened? All three of them had been right there. If only they hadn't left him alone. If only somebody had stayed with him. Why had nobody noticed?

Kendall wanted to slam his hand into the wall in frustration. Two armed men had been able to walk off with his friend with impunity. What if they had..? They had guns, they could have… Kendall took a deep breath to steady himself and stop the dangerous line of reasoning his brain was taking him down.

If he thought about it logically, he knew that no one had really been shot. The mall would have been evacuated if that were the case. But still, two men with guns had abducted his best friend. Wait a second. Or had they? From the things he had heard, it sounded almost as if Logan had gotten away.

The more he thought about it, this was the only logical conclusion he could draw. The men wouldn't have pulled their guns and drawn attention to themselves if this wasn't the case. Even that man had said that a boy had gone tearing out the doors. Logan must have somehow escaped his captors.

Kendall ran over to the security guards, and managed to catch one's attention. The guard faced him asking. "What do you want kid?"

"The two men with the guns, I think they tried to kidnap my friend."

The guard looked him over skeptically, "What makes you say that?"

Kendall whipped out his phone and showed the guard the message. The man read it through once, twice, before he finally tapped his partner on the arm. "Bernie, I think we have a problem."

{/}

Kendall was sitting slumped against the wall when James and Carlos finally reached him. He jumped up as they skidded to a stop in front of him.

"What happened?"

"Where's Logan?"

"Is he alright?"

Kendall held up his hand, attempting to stem the flow of questions. "I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know." He hated saying those words. There had never been a day in his life when he thought he wouldn't know the answers to at least one of those questions. Instead, Kendall showed them the text. The words forever ingrained in his mind. Carlos and James read it, expressions of horror forming. "I got this text and came running over here, but I was too late. I found this mob and the security guards, and I told them what I know. I-I think the cops are coming, but they don't… they don't think…" Kendall tried to regain his composure. He was close to breaking down completely and just sobbing, but he had to try and keep it together. He was the leader, the strong one that the others leaned on for support. He couldn't lose it. They needed him.

"They had guns," he finally whispered. "Two men with guns kidnapped Logan."

Carlos was pale. His trademark grin was gone from his normally carefree visage. James looked numb, like he couldn't take in what was happening. He understood the words, but he couldn't make them make sense in that order. "Logan," "kidnapped," and "guns" didn't belong in the same sentence together.

"I should have been here sooner," Kendall said, still speaking in that soft tone. "If I'd only been a little bit faster-"

James cut him off. "This wasn't your fault, Kendall. You got here as fast as you could."

Kendall just looked at him with a tortured glint in his eyes, and James realized he was barely holding on. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his friend, feeling him sag against him. Kendall shuddered, finally giving into the sobs that wanted to rack his body. James found he was crying too. Seeing Kendall cry had brought it home for him. This was real. This was happening. Their friend was in trouble, and he had no idea how to help. Carlos stepped up and hugged both of them, needing to feel the contact.

The three best friends stood there, seeking comfort in the only people they had right now. However, in this moment that brought them so close together, it also emphasized the void where another should have been. They were left to wait and wonder where their friend was and what could possibly be happening to him.

**There you have it. Absolutely no questions answered and even more asked. Perfect. Please review if you are so inclined. Oh, could someone be so kind as to explain what a flame is? And a crackfic? I think I have a general idea, but I'd like a more concrete definition. Thank you!**


	6. Flicker

**Hello everyone! I meant to say this last chapter, but completely spaced. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and everyone who wished me a good time on my trip. You all are so nice! **** Anyway, here's the next chapter. I hope it's up to snuff. As always, on with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. (Sorry no clever comments today)**

I didn't know how long I'd been running when that black car screeched around the corner. I knew I couldn't run, but I tried anyway. I was dehydrated, and exhaustion from the heat was forcing me down. My knees scraped the blistering sidewalk. I pushed myself up. Through the miasma in my brain, one thought made itself clear: escape the car. On foot, against a car, I didn't stand a chance, but if I could get away from the car, I might be able to lose my pursuers.

I darted down a narrow alley, hoping the car wouldn't fit. It didn't. I heard car doors open and slam shut. The shouts of my kidnappers reached my ears, vague voices telling me to stop, that this would all be easier if I just stopped resisting. Some part of my brain processed this information, but the biggest part was focused on getting one foot in front of the other as fast as possible.

I couldn't keep this up; I knew that. I needed to do something and fast. I flew out of the alley into the scalding sunlight and saw my salvation: a city bus. I sprinted to the doors, using the last of my strength. Pushing my way through the departing crowd, I fumbled with my orange bus pass before managing to pull it out and tag the scanner. The doors whooshed shut behind me, shutting out my captors and any immediate danger. I collapsed directly behind the bus driver and felt unconsciousness overtake me.

I came to a few minutes later and sat up. Disoriented, I looked around trying to gauge my surroundings. The bus was empty. That in itself was weird. I didn't think I'd ever been on a bus without at least a few other passengers.

Suddenly the bus driver slammed on the brakes, throwing me up against the back of his seat. Fear spread through me. Had the kidnappers found me? Were they waylaying the bus?

I shot to my feet, but then the bus driver started screaming at me. "What do you think you're doing kid? Why are you still on my bus?" His face was red, and his bulbous, red nose seemed to quiver with indignation.

"I-I-" I stuttered, trying to come up with a response, through my frazzled nerves.

"This is the last run of the day! What'd you miss the memo?" He pulled over to the side and released the doors. "Get off!"

I scurried to the exit and scrambled down. The bus drove off, leaving me on my own.

I had no idea where I was. I'd run in a near panic from the mall. My erratic pattern of flight had led me down the alley and onto the bus, but I still couldn't think of where in the city I had ended up. I spun in a slow circle looking for a familiar landmark… nothing.

I sighed, shoulders slumping. Wherever I was, it was a seedy neighborhood, the kind of place you didn't want to end up after dark. Also the kind of place where you were pretty much guaranteed _not_ to find a working payphone.

I leaned against the building behind me in a vain attempt to collect my thoughts. The things I needed at the moment included a phone, water, and, if possible, a policeman. None of those seemed to be in immediate reach. Sure I could walk up to one of the nearby apartment buildings and ask for a phone, but judging from the apparent poverty and general dilapidation of the area, that might wind me up in even more trouble than I was already in. I groaned aloud in frustration. My best course of action seemed to be to start walking and try to find some way to contact the authorities, providing my captors didn't catch up with me first.

I tried to shake off the heat that clung to me and started moving.

{/}

Kendall, James, and Carlos sat against the wall, finally finished talking to the cops. They were still at the mall, sitting off to the side of the south entrance. The police had arrived about two hours ago and had been talking to witnesses. They had tried to reach Mrs. Knight, but hadn't been able to get a hold of her. None of the boys had a number for Logan's father.

One of the officers, Officer Henderson, a kind, fatherly man, left the group of officers and officials to come talk to the boys. "Howdy boys, how you holding up?"

Kendall dragged his head off of James' shoulder, "Do you know who tried to take Logan?"

Officer Henderson sighed, looking troubled. The black moustache over his lip quivered as he pondered how much to tell the boys. "We don't know who tried to abduct your friend, nor do we know why. The only information we've been able to gather is a general description of the two suspects and that they were driving a black, Mercedes sedan. Unfortunately, we are still unable to locate either." Henderson grimaced internally, when he saw how the boys' faces fell. "Are you absolutely certain that you have told us everything you know? Even the most minute detail could be important."

Kendall shook his head then looked at Carlos and James. James shrugged helplessly. Carlos shook his head, causing his helmet straps to hit him in the face. He didn't seem to notice.

Kendall felt as desolate as his friends looked. They'd been sitting here for hours, _watching_ the police work, _waiting_ for news on Logan. He wanted to be out there _doing_ something. Sitting here wasn't bringing Logan back. Kendall hated to think what his friend could be going through. He was out in L.A. somewhere, in this unbearable heat, most likely dodging two armed and obviously dangerous men. _Unless they'd already caught him._ No, Kendall couldn't think about that. _Unless something horrible had already happened._ Stop it, Logan was fine. _Unless they were already too…_

"Kendall!"

Kendall jerked when he realized someone had been trying to get his attention. James had a hand on his shoulder, and Carlos was peering around James, a look of concern etched on his face. "Yeah, sorry. Spaced out for a moment."

"Are you okay?" James asked, observing him intently.

"Yeah. Yeah, as good as I can be, right?" he responded, attempting a ghost of a smile. It hurt him to see his friends so worried, especially since he was apparently making it worse.

James nodded unsure, but before he could ask more questions, Officer Henderson cleared his throat, reminding them of his presence. He opened his mouth to speak, when another office jogged over.

"Henderson," he called, "we might have a lead on the Mitchell boy. Someone just called in that they saw a boy matching his description down on Fremont Street."

Office Henderson whistled softly, "That's a bad part of town."

Kendall tried to arrest the surge of hope that was growing in his chest. It wasn't necessarily Logan. It could have been anybody. They didn't know for sure. But if it was him…

Henderson addressed the boys again. "Well guys, it looks like we may have a lead on your friend. Do you have a number you can be reached at if we need to get in contact with you?"

The sentence hit Kendall hard. "What!" he yelled, leaping to his feet. "We're going with you."

James and Carlos jumped up too. "Yeah, he's our best friend. You have to let us go with you," Carlos argued defiantly.

"Boys," Henderson raised a placating hand, "it's too dangerous. We're looking for men that have no problem with kidnapping and quite possibly murder. There's no way we'd risk the lives of three teenage boys. Besides the fact, Logan was their target, but who's to say he was their only target? You three could very well be in danger too."

Kendall looked him in the eyes, putting every ounce of reason and appeal he could into his next words, "Officer, the caller didn't say anything about the gunmen being in the area, just Logan. We have every reason to believe that Logan escaped his captors, don't we?"

Henderson nodded slowly.

"Then we shouldn't be in any danger if we help with the search, right?"

Henderson still looked unsure.

"Please. He's our friend."

Henderson hesitated one more second before finally giving in. "Alright boys, let's go find him."

**There you have it. Another installment of my torturing of everybody's favorite boy band. Tune in next week for the next chapter of "Burned." (or tomorrow or whenever, saying week just sounds better) I love reviews and people who give them!**


	7. Crackle and Split

**Here it is, another chapter of "Burned," (thankfully not a week later, I would feel terrible for killing Miss Fenway) I meant to thank everyone for telling me what a flame and a crackfic are last chapter, so in lieu of that, thanks everyone! And thank you again for all the reviews. No, I haven't yet run out of heat words, and I don't intend to. ;) Cleverness to AbbyMasrai for getting my "deeper" meaning (haha, I know what symbolism means! Yay for A.P. English). Anyway, enough with my ridiculously long author's note, on with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me. **

Kendall sat between James and Carlos in the back of Henderson's unmarked police car. He had a hand on each of their knees. He was still scared, still _guilty_, but his natural instincts had kicked in: his drive to protect his friends and find a way out of the situations they always seemed to find themselves in. He would get them out of this. They would find Logan. Everything would be okay. Kendall knew.

The situation was kind of ironic actually. Here the three of them sat in the back of a police car, looking for their friend who was running from men wanted by the police. Kendall could hold a cynical appreciation for it, if the situation wasn't so dire. He inadvertently tightened his grip on his friends.

James looked over at Kendall and saw his clenched jaw, the set of his chin. He was worried about him. Kendall felt responsible for all of them, despite that fact that they were all old enough to take care of themselves. He tried to take everything on his shoulders. The scene in the mall earlier had been a fluke. Kendall almost never sought out comfort, nor accepted it when it was offered. The fact that he had let James hold him was a major development. James decided to try it again.

He gently pried Kendall's hand from his knee and held it in his own. Kendall glanced at him. "He's going to be okay, yeah?" James phrased it as a question, searching Kendall's eyes, relief flooding through him when he saw the familiar determination and confidence.

Kendall squeezed his hand reassuringly, "Yeah. He's going to be just fine."

"Boys," Henderson said, making eye contact via the rearview mirror, "this is the area."

Kendall, Carlos, and James immediately glued their eyes to the windows, as if expecting Logan to be standing on the nearest street corner.

"I have officers combing the area on foot, in addition to increased patrols. We've got the blocks from Fremont St. to Northwest Ave., and Billinger St. to Dixie Ct. We'll remain in the car, but holler if you see anything."

Kendall nodded, keeping his eyes on the empty streets. They drove desolate block after desolate block, without seeing anything. They were on their fourth trip around when the radio crackled to life. "Henderson. Come in Henderson."

Henderson grabbed the radio and depressed the button, "Henderson here."

"Your presence is requested at 2546 Brundage Ln. Witnesses there claim to have seen the missing person."

Kendall's heart leapt at the words, and he almost missed Henderson's short reply, "Alright, we will head to the specified location immediately. Henderson, out." He hung up the radio.

"Well boys," he started, allowing a small smile to grace his features, "it looks like we may have found your friend."

Kendall, James, and Carlos were all sitting tensely in the backseat, just daring to hope that his words may be true.

The ride to the witness' house seemed to last an eternity, and the boys were straining out of their seats when they finally pulled up. James made to open his door and get out, but Henderson stopped him. "I'm afraid you boys can't come up with me," he raised a hand to still the protests, looking pointedly at Kendall, "but you can get out of the car if you promise to stay back here, okay?"

"Okay," Kendall said. James and Carlos settled for nodding vigorously.

Henderson got out and walked up the path to the door. The boys heard him knock. Following his lead, they all got out of the car and stood on the corner. Seconds, after Henderson had disappeared inside, the boys spotted a figure fly across the street about half a block down.

"Guys!" Carlos screamed. "That was Logan!"

{/}

I staggered along, making an effort to keep one foot in front of the other. I was wary of stopping in this place. I had yet to see another living soul, but I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. The sun was setting, for which I felt both grateful and anxious. Darkness made it easier to hide. Conversely, it also hid my pursuers, not to mention that it lessened the chances of finding help. At least the heat was finally beginning to dissipate. It was projected to cool down to the low eighties in the evenings. I would embrace the dark for this reason alone.

Approaching a corner, I hugged the wall cautiously. Barely sticking my head out to peer around, I made certain the way was clear. I suppose I was being overly careful, but there was no way I was taking any risks. I'd only just managed to escape the gunmen the previous times. Seeing no one, I pressed on.

I had been hoping for a convenience store or an all night fast food place or something, but I wasn't expecting this. The area was so rundown that all the establishments I'd passed were either boarded up, or scarred by shattered windows and broken doors. Not a single venturous businessman had managed to make a permanent dent in this wasteland. People obviously lived in the neighborhood; I'd seen lights begin to flicker on in apartments. All other signs of life however, had been quashed.

I jumped when I saw headlights crest the hill in front of me. It couldn't be. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. They'd found me. I spun around and dashed down the block, hoping against hope they hadn't seen me. No such luck. I heard the car accelerate and felt the headlights illuminate my slim frame. I ducked down an alley and kept running.

Shooting out the other side, I kept going across the street, but saw something that nearly stopped me dead in my tracks. Three familiar figures were standing down at the corner. That wasn't…? I had no time to stop and make sure. Half of me was elated at the prospect that my friends had come for me, but the other half of me was terrified. I couldn't let those men get a hold of my friends.

I lost myself for the next few minutes. I turned randomly, skidding around corners and expecting to get run over every time I sprinted blindly across the street. I didn't hear anything, didn't feel the burning in my lungs or my legs; I never even looked which way I was going. The only thing that registered was the pounding of my feet on the pavement as the buildings flew by. Finally, finally I had to stop. I'd reached a dead end. I doubled over, wheezing.

I didn't notice the sound of someone coming up behind me until they slammed into me. My heart stopped. The gunmen had caught me. I suppose it was only a matter of time. I was just one kid against two fully grown, armed adults. I hadn't ever stood a chance, and it was delusional of me to have ever thought so. I turned around slowly, ready to accept defeat.

"Logan! Oh my god, are you okay? Are you all right? Talk to me!"

I stared shocked up into Kendall's face. He had me by the forearms and was desperately trying to make sure I was unharmed. His eyes skittered over me, checking for any sign of an injury. He met my eyes again, looking panicked. "I'm fine, Kendall," I answered, smiling tiredly.

He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "We were so worried Logan. When you disappeared out of the food court, and I got your text, I almost had a heart attack. I was so scared. I didn't know what was going on. The way you had just vanished, we all thought something horrible must have happened to you. Thank goodness you're okay."

I rubbed Kendall's back, trying to calm him down. Funny that I was the one calming him.

He squeezed me one more time before pulling back, but he left his hands on my arms.

"Where are James and Carlos?" I asked, noticing the absence of my other two best friends.

"We lost sight of you, when you were running through the allies. We had to split up."

"Oh, sorry about that," realization slammed into me. "Did we lose them? What happened to the car?"

Kendall glanced around, "I don't know. I think we lost them a few turns back."

I sagged against Kendall, totally spent. "It's okay Logan," Kendall said, wrapping his arms around me once again. "It's okay. You're safe now."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Kendall whirled around at the sound of the voice, pulling me with him. My two captors stood in the mouth of the alley. Kendall pushed me behind him, protectively.

"Step aside boy," the shorter one ordered, "no one needs to get hurt."

"You want my friend, you have to go through me," Kendall retorted, all confidence and defiance.

"So be it," the two men advanced on us. The taller one pulled a short, black, stick-like object from the inside of his jacket. I recognized it: a blackjack.

"Kendall," I hissed, "move. It's me they want."

"No way Logan," Kendall replied his eyes never leaving the gunmen. "You're my best friend. I won't let them hurt you."

"Too bad you have no choice in the matter." Faster than the eye could follow, the tall man darted forward, raising the blackjack. Kendall ducked and threw himself at the man's waist, taking them both to the ground. The shorter man advanced on me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to resist. I was too exhausted, too dehydrated. My body was hardly responding to me now. Still, I pulled weakly against him as he started to drag me down the alley, away from Kendall.

"Kendall!" I yelled desperately, not wanting to be separated from him again so soon.

"Logan!" Kendall jumped up trying to reach me, but the taller man was quicker. He slammed the blackjack into the side of Kendall's head, and he went down in a heap.

"Kendall! Kendall!" I felt tears streaming down my face. The man had his arm around my waist and was dragging me down the alley. "No! Kendall!" I twisted and writhed in his grasp, but I was just too weak. I didn't even see the blackjack as it swung down towards my head.

**There you have it folks. Reviews are what are currently feeding my goldfish, unless you want him to slowly starve to death, please review. No, I'm not above blackmail. Have a nice day everyone! :D**


	8. Catalyst

**Here it is. I might have had a **_**little**_** too much fun writing this, but I just love the twist I threw in there! Thank you all for feeding my goldfish. He is eternally grateful, and I hope not suicidal. Maybe I'll get him a lady fish just to make sure. By the way, I'm glad you all approve of Officer Henderson. I thought he came out pretty good. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

When I came to, the only thing I wanted was to be unconscious again. My head pounded in time with my heart, which was breaking with every memory that surfaced. My best friend was lying in an alley somewhere, hurt, maybe... No, I didn't think he was dead. They'd had guns; they could have just shot him. There was no reason for them to use the blackjack, if they didn't care for his life. No, for whatever reason they'd refrained from killing anyone.

James and Carlos were god knows where. I didn't even know if they were alright. I hoped so.

Despite the pain, I chanced cracking my eyes open. Wherever I was, it was dark. The only illumination came from windows high up in the walls. I was surrounded by wooden crates that gave off a musty, faintly damp smell. I felt nausea roil up in my throat. I jerked instinctively and found I couldn't move any of my limbs. My arms were tied behind the chair I was sitting in, and my ankles were secured to the legs. There was also a rope secured firmly around my chest.

The bile burned, and I was quietly sick for a moment, but nothing came up. I hadn't eaten since breakfast.

My throat wasn't the only thing that was burning. I held back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. I just felt so alone, so helpless. I wanted my friends. I wanted my _dad_. I wanted to be back at the mall with nothing more to worry about than when I'd get my pizza. Anger mixed with the despair, in a strange coalition, the tears that were threatening fueled by more than misery. I hated that these men had so much power over me, that they were making me feel like this. That they felt like they could do this to me and those that I cared for. The anger helped me push back the anguish.

I focused, taking stock of my situation. I was in terrible shape physically. I hadn't eaten for approximately 13 hours, ditto for drinking anything. I was tied to a chair. Both my arms were numb beyond feeling. There was one highlight to my situation: I did have a good idea of where I was. The building could only be a warehouse, which narrowed it down, and in the distance I could hear the soft crash of waves. I had to be down at the docks. Little good that knowledge did me, as I was unable to move, but it did make me feel better.

Suddenly I tensed, hearing footsteps approaching. A man appeared, not the tall one, nor the short one with the sunglasses. He was dressed in a pink dress shirt and brown khaki slacks, a bizarre contrast to the other two men's black suits. He paused when he saw me, and set down a tray he'd been carrying on a nearby crate. "Hello Logan," he said quietly.

I didn't respond. This man was different from the other two. He was looking at me almost _sadly_, like he felt sorry for me, but this wasn't what struck me about him. He looked familiar. I had the strangest sense that I'd come into contact with him before, but a long time ago. Maybe I'd met him as a kid? But I'd grown up in such a small town, that seemed impossible. Still, why did he seem so familiar?

He grabbed a glass off the tray and held it to my lips. "Here drink this." I kept my mouth firmly shut. He sighed, "It's not poisonous if that's what you're worried about." He took a small sip from the glass, to prove his point. "See?" He proffered the glass again and this time I drank greedily. The whole glass was gone in less than a minute.

He went back to the tray and this time offered me some bread. I took a bite and chewed slowly. It was stale, but not too bad otherwise. I was about to open my mouth for another piece when I heard a door somewhere open and then slam shut. The man beside me tensed visibly. He scooped up the tray and hurried out of my little space, throwing me one worried glance over his shoulder.

That bothered me. The man had obviously been afraid of whoever was coming. If that man worked with whoever was coming and was scared of him, where did that leave me?

When I finally saw who was coming, I didn't relax exactly, but I was a bit surprised. It was only the gunmen. They both pulled crates out, sitting down and leering at me.

The taller one spoke, I think it was the first time I'd heard him say anything, "Hello Sonny Boy, I hope you're pleased with the accommodations." His partner snickered. "I bet you're wondering why you're here." I stared at him. He grinned horribly. "You'll find out soon enough. The boss man himself is coming to have a word with you. He seems extra interested in you. Me, see, I just thought we was going to ransom you, you bein' famous and all, but the boss he says, 'no way, this one is for our _special_ project.'" At this, his partnered guffawed, laughing obnoxiously. The tall one kept talking, "You're lucky Sonny Boy. Not everyone gets to be part of the boss' special projects. You should consider it an honor. Of course, none of the boss' specimens have ever made it outta an experiment, but you ain't worried, are ya, Sonny Boy?"

I felt my nausea returning with every word. This "boss man" sounded insane. If what I was concluding was even partly true, then it sounded as if this man was conducting some kind of experiment on human beings, _unwilling_ human beings, and none of them had survived. I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat.

"That's enough, Thaddeus," a cool voice spoke from the shadows. The tall one, Thaddeus, immediately shut up and jumped to attention, all traces of humor vanishing in an instant. The short one mirrored his actions. As for me, I could only feel shock. I knew that voice.

A man stepped from the shadows. He wasn't large, nor was he small. He was perfectly average. Brown hair and brown eyes led down to a regular build, dressed in a pristine white suit, covering tasseled loafers. He set his eyes on mine, "Logan," he said with a nod.

"Dad," I breathed.

{/}

James, Carlos, and Officer Henderson sat in the waiting area of the hospital, waiting for news on Kendall. Carlos was sobbing into James' shoulder and James had an arm around him, rubbing his shoulder absently. He was still back in the alleyway where they'd found Kendall.

When he heard Logan screaming Kendall's name, his heart had stopped. He had never heard so much pain in one yell. He had thrown himself through the allies, trying frantically to locate his friends. After an eternity, he'd come upon Carlos cradling Kendall's inert body in his lap. He had frozen, staring at the lifeless form of his friend.

Carlos had had to shout at him three times to get his attention. He'd told him to call 911, and he had, bringing an ambulance, a team of paramedics, and Officer Henderson to his injured friend. Officer Henderson had had enough foresight to give each of the boys his phone number earlier in the day.

Now he sat in the waiting room, trying to bring comfort to Carlos, who had been so calm only half an hour before. Carlos could remain calm and rational in dangerous situations, but as soon as they ended, he completely lost it.

The doors to the ER swung open to reveal a petite, redheaded doctor with a clipboard. "Family of Kendall Knight?" she called.

Henderson, James, and Carlos came forward. The Doctor introduced herself, "I'm Dr. Amherst. Are you Kendall's family?"

Henderson introduced everyone and proceeded to explain the situation, saying that Mrs. Knight was out of town and that this was official police business. Doctor Amherst nodded.

"Your friend sustained a mild concussion and some bruising, but should be completely fine in a few days time. None of his injuries were particularly serious."

James and Carlos wilted with relief. At the very least, one of their best friends was out of danger. "Can we see him?" Carlos asked.

Dr. Amherst smiled kindly, "No need. He should be released momentarily."

Even as she spoke the doors to the ER swung outward again, revealing a slightly pale Kendall with a bandage wrapped around his head.

James and Carlos rushed over to him. "Hey Kendall, are you alright?" James asked, worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, feeling his head gingerly, "but what about Logan? The last thing I remember was those two guys dragging him off." At the looks on their faces, Kendall had his answer. "They got him, didn't they?"

James and Carlos could only nod helplessly. They hadn't even seen the two men. By the time either of them had reached Kendall, it had been too late. They hadn't been able to save their friend, and now they didn't know if they'd ever be able to.

**That's that. Another beautiful cliffhanger that I know you're all just going to love. Please review! **


	9. Kindling

**Hello everyone! Next chapter is up! Thank you to all the reviewers, but in particular cleverkateroo. Thanks for spotting that, it's all fixed now, so we're good. Just getting a little ahead of myself I guess. Um, I also realized I've been spelling "allies" wrong this entire time, it's actually "alleys," but I'm too lazy to go back and fix all those, so I'll just spell it right from now on, m'kay? Oh, also sorry this is later than usual. I had trouble writing this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I disclaim any rights of ownership to any part of Big Time Rush.**

My head reeled. How could my dad be here? I wanted to believe he'd been kidnapped too. I wanted him to be here against his will. I wanted him to hug me and tell me this was all some big misunderstanding, that we would find some way out of this horrible place together.

"Jonsom, Avery, you are dismissed." The gunmen bowed deferentially before scurrying out of our small enclosure. _They wouldn't treat him with respect if he wasn't in on this_. No that was stupid, my dad would never do something like this.

He sat down on a crate facing me and folded his hand on his knees. _He looks totally at ease. No one's holding a gun on him_. Shut up, shut up, he must have a good reason.

I couldn't stop gaping at him. He sat there looking back at me soullessly. _Is that the hug you were waiting for?_ This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening, but somehow it _was_.

"I know this must be a lot for you to take in right now."

I couldn't help it, I laughed, "You don't say."

He is eyes flared for just a second, but his expression never changed. Continuing as if I'd never interrupted, "but I need you to listen to me. As a gesture of good faith, I'm going to untie you, but I warn you if you attempt to run, you will be restrained again." He undid the knots binding my arms and legs, then un-looped the one from around my chest. He watched me for a second, determining if I was going to run or not, but smiled, satisfied when I remained still. "That wasn't so bad now, was it son?"

My arms had flopped down limply to my sides. I don't think I could've run if I'd wanted to. My legs were as boneless as my arms.

"Before anything happens, I want to explain to you why I had these men bring you here," he began, using that lecturing voice that I recalled so well. "You have been selected to participate in one of my current projects. It's called the Capacity Theory. A theory has been put forth that the brain has a certain capacity for excelling in different areas. For example, it has been observed that a person, who has an unusual amount of talent in athletics, usually fails to achieve academically, and the same goes for people who excel academically; it is rare that they ever have an aptitude for sports."

I scoffed, "What, you mean jocks and nerds? That's not exactly groundbreaking news."

My father raised an eyebrow, as if I was the stupidest person he'd ever met. I blinked. My father never looked at me that way. He'd always been proud of how smart I was, but… this wasn't really my father, now was it? Whoever this man was in front of me, he wasn't the man I had known. He was a completely different person from the one who had raised me.

"Logan, I assume you are familiar with the nine different sections of the brain and their functions?"

I nodded. I planned on becoming a doctor. How could I not be familiar with such basic anatomy?

"The hippocampus forms and stores memories, but it also is involved in learning. Up until recently, not much has been known about this region of the brain; however a team of scientists has had a breakthrough."

"Let me guess, a team of scientists that you happen to be working with?" I wondered where he was going with this.

"Yes," he smiled, and it chilled me to the bone. "We now know that there is a limit to how much a person can be good at, how much talent they can actually possess. We know that a piano prodigy is unlikely to be able to spell at higher than a fifth grade level. We know that the world's top astrophysicist possesses zero communication and social skills, but is somehow able to compute the rate at which a star will begin to deteriorate. We know these things to be true."

I finally caught on to what he was saying, but I still didn't get why he'd brought me here.

"In addition to what we have already found out, we have also discovered several anomalies. There is a wrestler in California who excels not only at wrestling, but also has an I.Q. in the upper one-thirties. There is a teenage girl in Colorado who was just awarded an athletic scholarship based off her Olympic swimming times, while simultaneously turning one down for her accomplishments as a violinist. There is a singer in a boy band, who can both sing and dance well enough to become famous that also has the intelligence to attend Harvard and become a doctor."

Realization finally dawned.

"Now, the Capacity Theory has been proven to apply to 99.999% of the American population, as near as my scientists have been able to tell. However, this also means that one out of every ten-thousand people has a higher brain capacity than the rest of the populace. It is pivotal that we find out why this occurs. The task has been delegated to me to find out why this is and what exactly makes these people so special. You, Logan, are one of those people."

I sat there dumbly. What he said, although I would never admit it, made sense from a purely scientific stand point. The part of my brain that excelled at biology understood this. The humane part of me, however, was screaming in outrage. These "scientists," as my father had called them, had abducted and experimented on innocent people. If what I'd heard was true, they had _killed_ people in the name of this undeveloped theory.

"What the heck is wrong with you? You killed people for this? You're willing to sacrifice your own _son_ for some theory?" I struggled to stand, indignation driving me to my feet.

"Logan," my father said completely unfazed, "you're not looking at the big picture, think of what this could do for the whole world." He stood up too. "If we could only figure out what gave certain people this larger capacity, we could expand the brain capacity of everyone. The entire population could be good at anything they wanted to be!"

"But at what cost? Don't you even care about the people you've killed? The families you've ripped apart? My best friend was left lying in an alley somewhere all in the betterment of your project. How is that helping anyone?"

He looked at me sadly. He truly didn't understand why I was so outraged. I wondered what had happened to his humanity, to his compassion. Where had my father gone, and when had been replaced with this, this _thing_? This thing that had no regard for human life or worth. I loved science, and I loved learning, but this was just sick.

"I'm sorry you feel that way Logan. I was hoping, when I realized that you were a perfect subject for this study, that you would embrace it with open arms, but I can clearly see that I was wrong. You aren't the man that I thought you would be."

Even after everything that I had just heard, that still stung, but I didn't let that stop me. "What are you going to do with me, Dad? I want no part of your project."

He didn't answer, only stepped closer till our faces were within inches of each other. With his tone never changing, he coolly responded, "I'm going to cut you open and find out just what makes you so special. Just why someone like you has been given such an incredible gift, and, if by some miracle you survive the procedure… well, let's just say that you'll wish you didn't."

**So, I've gotten some mixed reviews from my editors (my mom and sister). I'm not sure about this chapter. Is it too… I don't know, crazy? Implausible? Boring? I know the science is kind of questionable, but it's not that bad, right? Don't worry if there seem to be some plot discrepancies, I'm addressing them in the next chapter. As always, please review. **


	10. Fire

**Hey, everyone. Here it is, another chapter I've made you all wait for. *grins happily* Thanks for all the reviews, and yes AbbyMasrai, I will listen to you. Although, I do have one thing to say, I take offense at that! Where else is there a fic where Logan is used as a science experiment? I've never come across one, and if there is one, what's it called? I wanna read it!**

Avery and Jonsom stood at attention, with their fists clenched at their sides, watching Mr. Mitchell pace slowly in front of them. At present, he hadn't uttered a word. He stopped pacing and stared directly at them, his smoldering gaze pierced them, pinning them in place. "What happened?" With absolutely no inflection, Mr. Mitchell managed to instill more terror than if he'd been screaming in fury.

Jonsom cleared his throat, looking up at Avery briefly. "He-he escaped us, sir, but we managed to recover him with little upset to the original plan." The heat in the room caused a trickle of sweat to wind down his face.

"With little upset to the original plan?" Mitchell raised one eyebrow coolly, his piercing eyes turned fully on Jonsom. Jonsom was frozen, seared into place, unable to even flinch under the onslaught. Mitchell walked soundlessly between the two failed gunmen. He pulled absently at the white gloves that covered his hands, not a speck of dust marred them. "The boy caused enough commotion that you thought the situation warranted the use of your side arms, correct?

Jonsom and Avery nodded.

"You pulled these side arms in the center of a crowded are, at the busiest part of the day, and revealed yourselves to civilians?"

Jonsom and Avery nodded again.

"It then took you several _hours_ to locate and restrain the boy, while in the process harming another bystander, is this true?"

Jonsom and Avery gulped noticeably, but responded in the affirmative once again.

"So you mean to tell me, that alerting the police to our activities and adding four hours to the estimated time constraint, only marginally upset the original plan?" All this was asked in the same monotone Mitchell had used throughout the entire interrogation.

"But," Mitchell continued, his voice silky smooth. "Do you even realize what the worst act that you have committed is?"

Avery and Jonsom's eyes widened, wondering what could possibly be worse than what they'd already done.

"Your bumbling forced my intervention in this botched affair. I was never supposed to be involved in this. No one was ever supposed to know of my part in any of this, least of all my own son, but you two managed to destroy everything so thoroughly, so completely that you forced my hand." He paused, his eyes scalding them once again. The gunmen, held stationary by that gaze, that heat, couldn't move, though their every nerve ending screamed at them to run. Mitchell allowed himself a small smile, "I'm afraid you two must be terminated."

He raised a hand and the door behind him opened, admitting four men. They positioned themselves, one on each side of the disgraced kidnappers. Avery and Jonsom paled visibly, but didn't struggle. They knew they were outmatched.

As the two were being led from the room, Mr. Mitchell called out a few last parting words, "Make sure you preserve the bodies. I want to study them for science."

{/}

After my dad left, the man in the pink shirt and khakis had come and tied me up again, only not nearly so tight. In fact, I could almost wiggle my arms free, which was what I was currently trying to do. If I didn't know better, I would've said he'd done it on purpose.

I finally realized why he looked so familiar: he'd been my dad's assistant for the past twelve years. I'd eaten dinner with him a couple of times. His name was Julian Sweetwater. I wondered when everything had changed. The last time I'd seen my dad had been two years ago. He had seemed perfectly normal then. At the very least, he was the same man that I'd known all my life. When had he become the monster that I'd met ten minutes ago? Had he always been like that, and somehow hidden it from me? Wouldn't I have noticed that my own father was insane? Could he possibly have changed so much in the two years we'd been apart? I didn't want to think so, but the other option was even more chilling. It would mean I'd been living with a psychopath my entire life. It was better not to think about it for now. I'd sort out my thoughts later, like after I escaped.

I finally wiggled my left hand out, allowing my right to slip out easily. I shook them, gaining some circulation and ignoring the burning rings on my wrists. I rapidly untied my legs and shrugged out of the rope around my chest. I stood, wincing as I did so. Every inch of me seemed to be sore. My muscles ached. I could feel heat coming off my skin, from sunburns just beginning to redden.

Cautiously, I crept down the corridor of crates, my heart racing. This could be my only chance to escape before I was dissected. I came out of the pathway and paused. The room I was in was huge. Crates stood everywhere. Heavy machinery sat against walls. A giant conveyor belt ran the length of one wall. I didn't see any doors marked exit, but I saw some doors that appeared to lead to offices and the like. I headed towards them, hoping to find a phone or a way out.

I approached the first door and listened hard. Hearing nothing, I slowly, slowly turned the doorknob, wincing when the door creaked softly open. The room was deserted. I crossed to the other side and carefully peered out a window that looked out into a fluorescently lit corridor. I jumped back when I saw two men coming. Please don't come in here. Please don't come in here. Crap. I looked for a place to hide. A desk sat against one wall, and I dove behind it just as the door opened and the overhead light flicked on. I heard footsteps and two voices.

"You hear what happened to Jonsom and Avery?"

"Yeah, they're being terminated, but they should've known better than to screw up. The boss doesn't take kindly to failure."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, where do you think he wants us to leave this stuff?"

"Just put it on the desk, no one's going to miss it."

I heard footsteps coming towards the desk, and I held my breath. I couldn't get found now, not when I was so close. Not again. The sound of several objects landing on the desk sounded, and then I heard the door open and close.

I heaved a sigh and got up. That had been way too close. I looked at the desk, curious as to what the men had left. I almost cried out in joy. It was my cell phone and two other phones. There were also what appeared to be I.D. cards, two watches, and a pair of sunglasses. I shivered when I saw the two I.D. cards belonged to my kidnappers. Jonsom and Avery. Those two men had said something had happened to them. They'd been terminated. I didn't even want to know what that meant, but judging by the pile of personal affects…

No, it didn't matter. I had bigger problems to worry about. I dialed 911 and held my phone to my ear. It rang several times before someone picked up, "Sorry, all our operators are busy with other calls, please standby".

My stomach dropped. No way. Of all the times to get a busy signal, I clenched my phone in my hand. I hung up and redialed, but got the same response. Panic making itself known, I called the only other person I could think of, praying he'd pick up.

"Kendall?"

**Dun du du duh! Another chapter completed! I need to stop listening to Vitamin String Quartet. I think it's making me more diabolical. Oh, I do read James Patterson by the way, and I love the Maximum Ride series. Any who, make sure all reviews are delivered, but please leave their spleens! Ahahahaha, sorry. Ignore my lame joke. It's late right now. **


	11. Blaze

**Hello everyone. I need to clarify a few things. I wasn't mad at anyone's reviews! It was more like, oh no! I thought I was being original, but apparently not. I'm sorry if I made anyone feel bad. I was more just kidding around. Especially sorry Abby, I was actually talking about SeekDreamsAndFindHope, but it's not like I was upset with her either. We all good? I hope so. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I'm thinking maybe, one or two more till the end? I think I can wrap it up by then. **

**Disclaimer: Yo no tengo nada… or something like that. **

"Kendall?"

Kendall's throat caught as he heard the voice on the other end of the phone. It was scratchy and soft, but unmistakably Logan. "Logan. Where are you? Are you all right?" James and Carlos leaned in impatiently. The three were seated in a diner near the hospital, waiting for Officer Henderson to finish with some paperwork and drive them home.

"I don't know where I am exactly, but I know it's somewhere down by the docks. I think I'm in a warehouse. I'm fine."

Kendall knew Logan was at least partially lying. He sounded exhausted, and there was a note in his voice that indicated something was off, something he didn't want to tell Kendall. "Why didn't you call the police?"

"You'll never believe it. I got a busy signal."

"You can get busy signals when you call the police?"

"Apparently. What about you, Kendall? Are you okay?" Logan's voice was urgent and just a little bit frightened.

"I'm fine," he answered, repeating Logan's answer. "Takes more than a knock on the head to keep me down. You know that."

"Yeah, I do." Logan said softly. "Kendall… Kendall this might be it for me. I don't know if I can get out of this." Kendall's hand started shaking. Logan couldn't give up. James and Carlos were watching him intently. They were both nearly on top of the table; they were so desperate to hear what was happening. "I… Are Carlos and James there?"

"Yeah," Kendall whispered.

"Put me on speaker phone. They need to hear this too."

No, Kendall wouldn't let him say goodbye. "No way Logan. You're not telling us goodbye. You will come back to us. We're not going to lose you." James and Carlos jumped up upon hearing these words and ran around to Kendall's side of the table, pressing in close.

"Kendall," he could hear the tears in Logan's voice. "Fine, just… just tell them that I love them and they're two of the most important people in my life."

"No Logan…"

"I love you too Kendall. I could never have asked for a better friend. I'm really going to miss you guys."

"No, Logan please! Don't do this! We'll find you just don't give up!"

Kendall suddenly heard Logan gasp and a door slam, "Goodbye Kendall." The line went dead.

Kendall's heart broke, "Hang on Logan, we're coming. I promise," he told the dial tone.

{/}

I don't know what prompted me to call Kendall. If I'd been thinking clearly I would have called James or Carlos, my two friends who I could only assume weren't injured, but I still ended up calling Kendall, maybe it was because he was the leader or because he always had answers to every difficult situation. I don't know.

"Logan," I wanted to cry when I heard the familiar voice. "Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I don't know where I am exactly, but I know it's somewhere down by the docks. I think I'm in a warehouse. I'm fine." I didn't want to tell him about my dad. I couldn't even bring myself to think about it right now. Everything was just too much.

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"You'll never believe it. I got a busy signal." Heck, I still didn't believe it. What good was an emergency number if you weren't guaranteed a response?

"You can get busy signals when you call the police?"

"Apparently. What about you, Kendall? Are you okay?" It wasn't my health I was worried about, although it probably should have been.

"I'm fine. Takes more than a knock on the head to keep me down. You know that." I did know that. He was Kendall the invincible, the valiant leader we all looked up to.

"Yeah I do. Kendall… Kendall this might be it for me. I don't know if I can get out of this." A sob was trying really hard to escape my throat. I forced it down, "I… Are Carlos and James there?"

I had finally reached my breaking point. After being abducted at gunpoint, chased through the city for hours, tied up in a chair, and coming face to face with my insane father, I had finally lost it, even the police couldn't help me. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Yeah," I heard Kendall whisper

"Put me on speaker phone. They need to hear this too." Kendall instantly grasped my meaning.

"No way Logan. You're not telling us goodbye. You will come back to us. We're not going to lose you."

"Kendall…" the tears started falling, "Fine, just… just tell them that I love them and they're two of the most important people in my life."

"No Logan…" trust Kendall to be stubborn about this.

"I love you too. I could never have asked for a better friend," I meant every word, with a sincerity I'd never felt before. My three best friends were like another part of me. I almost laughed. Even if my dad did cut me open, he'd only find one part Logan, the other bits would be Kendall, James, and Carlos. Just like if I died, a piece of me would still be alive in my friends. "I'm really going to miss you guys."

"No, Logan please! Don't do this! We'll find you just don't give up!" I felt like I was tearing my own heart to pieces, hearing the raw anguish in Kendall's voice.

I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and I gasped. Lights were flashing, this could only mean one thing. They'd discovered I was gone. The door to my little alcove opened, and I was met by two guards in suits, a man and a woman. "Goodbye Kendall."

I hung up and turned to face them. This was it, time to decide if I lived or died.

The woman stepped up, smiling sweetly and cocking her head. "Found you. Your dad says he wants to see you in operating room six. Don't you want to go? I think it'll be fun!"

I briefly contemplated running. If I made a break for the door, back into the warehouse, I might get away… but no, I knew I'd never make it. I was too tired, too hurt, too broken. Instead, I held my hands up and began walking towards the door to the hall. If I was going to die, I was going to do it with my head held high. I wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing my fear. I wasn't going to cry and scream to be released. I wouldn't have them dragging me down the hall begging for my life. I was choosing death and in doing so, choosing to go out on my terms. If nothing else, I would hold onto my pride, even if I couldn't hold onto my life.

{/}

I lay shivering on the cold, metal operating table, observing my father standing on the opposite side of the room. He had exchanged his suit, for white scrubs and a surgical mask. He approached me, pulling on white gloves with a slight snap. When he looked down on me, it was without emotion. I barely even saw any recognition in his eyes.

He held out a thermometer for me to put under my tongue. I felt his hand grasp my wrist, and flinched from the heat radiating from him. It was the same heat his eyes held. I couldn't tell if it was the insidious coil of insanity that had taken residence inside him, or a flaming rage that seemed to possess him and control his careful and precise movements. It could have been either one, or more likely, both.

He took down my pulse and my temperature on a small clipboard he had sitting next to his surgical supplies. I noticed three rows of scalpels and other instruments, many whose functions I was familiar with. He had just finished, when the door opened. Julian Sweetwater stepped into the room, clearing his throat as he did so.

"Pardon me Mr. Mitchell, but there is a small issue that needs your attention."

My father looked as Julian, his lip curling in contempt, but he stepped over towards him.

Julian looked totally composed, but I noticed his eye twitch slightly, and I wondered what reason he could have to be nervous. When my father was but three feet from him, Julian suddenly turned and yanked down a switch on the wall. A siren began wailing and a red light blanketed the room. Julian threw himself at my father, taking him to the ground.

"Run Logan run!" he screamed at me.

I hesitated. How could Julian be doing this for me?

"Logan! You must run! I can't hold him forever!" My father was attempting to throw Julian off.

I hesitated one last second before launching myself at the door. I paused in the doorway and breathed out two words, "Thank you," before taking off and sprinting down the hallway.

**I hope you all liked this chapter. Please review! **


	12. Burned

**Hello everyone, the next and last chapter is up! I know that comes as a letdown to some of you (Yay! They like me, they really like me!), but I found a good place to end it. Never fear I shall write more. Thanks one more time to everyone who reviewed. I love you all, and I sincerely appreciate the sentiments. I might actually try writing for real one day, and it helps to know there are at least a few people out there who believe in me. **

**Disclaimer: Je ne possede rien.**

**Warning: This is a little more graphic than I usually get. I don't think it's too bad, but if you're super squeamish, just watch out, okay? **

I flew down the hallway, dodging people in suits as they spilled out into the corridor. Nobody paid me any attention, as they were more concerned with the blaring alarm. I was wondering why everyone seemed so panicky when I heard the first explosion. A wall a ways ahead of me blew out, showering the area in ashes and plaster.

I heard another explosion, this one from behind me. Oh god, the facility was self-destructing. This must be my father's contingency plan. If he knew that his trust had been betrayed, and discovery was imminent, he would have to destroy all evidence of any wrong doing. I had to get out of here.

I turned a corner and was thrown backwards, by the blast from a room a few yards away. I saw a body hit the wall and slide down to rest crumpled on the floor. I scooted back in horror, frantically scrambling to my feet. No wonder everyone was so scared, they weren't supposed to make it out alive. My father wanted to get rid of _all_ the evidence.

Where was the exit? There had to be a way out of here somehow. I ran down yet another hallway, dodging chunks of the ceiling as it rained down me. I sucked in hot ash, and smoke made my eyes stream. A particularly large chunk of plaster landed right in front of me, and I tripped over it, falling sprawled on the tiled floor.

I hauled myself back up and kept going. It was growing unbearably hot in here, just like my desperate flight this afternoon. I tried to think logically. I'd entered the small office, taken a left, then a right, and then a final left into the operating room. When I'd run out of there, I'd gone left then taken two rights. The building was a warehouse, it was huge, but if I kept going in one direction I should reach on exit. If I took a left at the end of this corridor, then took the next available right, and repeated this every time I reached an end, I'd be continuously going in the same direction and should be able to find a way out.

Satisfied with my plan, I instigated it. Running down the halls, I passed more bodies and more debris. I could hear explosions going off in the distance. This place must be bigger than I thought. Maybe it connected to another warehouse. I really hoped not.

I hastened down a stark white hallway, and passed a door just as it was blown off its hinges. I ducked, but felt something connect with my forehead. I stumbled forward and slid a foot on my knees. My fingers probed the cut on my head. It was maybe two inches long and bleeding profusely. It wasn't serious.

I picked myself up and carried on. It felt like I'd been doing that a lot lately. Suddenly, the red light of the hallways was broken by a flash of blue. I picked up my pace, approaching the end of the corridor. Yes, I'd reached the edge of the building. A row of windows ran along this wall. Outside, I could see cop cars parked, with police swarming all over the area. Behind them was the ocean.

I felt rejuvenated, and for the first time in the past hour, I felt like I might actually survive this ordeal. My friends had come for me. They'd found me. Now all I had to do was get to them.

Door, door, I needed a door. More explosions rocked the foundation, but this time the rumbling didn't die out. It kept going, growing louder and louder. Part of the building was collapsing. I sprinted desperately faster. I was too close. Too close.

There. A set of double doors sat two-hundred feet down. I somehow pushed myself even faster. My legs burned in protest. I threw myself at the doors, feeling the bar depress, the latch click, and then feeling myself being yanked back inside.

I was thrown down in a heap facing the doors and the man who'd detained me. I looked up into a nightmare. My father stood before me, but he looked as if he'd been caught in one of the explosions. The left half of his straight, brown hair had been burnt off, leaving a blackened scalp. His scrubs were scorched and darkened, pockmarked with holes. His left arm was covered in blisters and blackened flecks of skin were peeling off. One of his shoes was partially melted.

He grabbed the front of my button-up and slammed me into the wall. His eyes burned into mine. The flesh from his face sagged grotesquely. "You did this."

I flinched back from the stench of burning flesh. "Let me go!"

He slammed me into the wall again and I saw stars. "You did this! You ruined everything I ever worked for!"

"Let me go! I did nothing! You brought this on yourself!" I brought my knee up and smashed my foot into his stomach. He released me with a shriek and fell to the floor clutching his stomach.

"You're insane! You killed all those innocent people!" My chest heaved with the emotion I'd been repressing. He was on his feet faster than I could follow and tackled me. We both hit the wall, hard. Bracing myself against it, I shoved off, pushing my father away. He stumbled over some rubble and went down, but his hand snaked around my wrist taking me with him.

Going down, I noticed flames licking their way up the corridor. The air was slowly becoming un-breathable.

We rolled through the plaster and ashes, each struggling to pin the other. My father gained the upper hand and pinned me to the floor. His hands wrapped around my throat. I twisted underneath him and tried to force his hands off, but I couldn't get any leverage. I saw black spots and struggled more desperately. My chest burned painfully, both from the smoke and the lack of oxygen. In one last attempt I bucked my hips, trying to launch him off. It worked, and he flipped over me.

I staggered to my feet, coughing. There was an ominous creaking, and I stumbled over towards the door. The whole ceiling, weakened from the explosions and the all-consuming flames, fell. My father gave one last screech before he was buried in the wreckage with a sickening crunch. I stood still for one second, feeling the hot ash rain down on me, staring at the place where the man who used to be my father lay buried. I didn't know what I felt, but none of it felt good.

I pushed the door open. Cool, night air bathed my face. I breathed it in, covetously, feeling the ache in my chest ease slightly. I looked out at the sea of cops, but couldn't see past the blaring headlights. My eyes watered.

A figure broke free from the crowd and came sprinting towards me. I braced myself, unable to identify the shadowy form. It slammed into me, and I felt arms wrap around me. Carlos.

"Logan! Are you okay? What happened? Is the building blowing up? I thought I'd never see you again!"

"Carlos-"

"Wow look at all the smoke. What was in there?"

"Carlos-" I tried again.

"Why is it blowing up? Were they making bombs?"

"Carlos!"

"What?"

"You're crushing me." His arms were painfully tight against my battered body.

"Oh, sorry!" He jumped back.

By this time I could see, Kendall and James sprinting towards us. James reached me first and enveloped me in another tight hug, but he released me long before Carlos had. Kendall was the most gentle, but he didn't let go.

"Logan, are you alright?"

"Yeah… mostly," Kendall pulled back a little, but didn't let go.

He searched my face then said, "No you're not."

James and Carlos crowded around us. I felt them wrap their arms around us in a group hug. I just buried my face into Kendall's chest, feeling his arms tighten slightly. In a few minutes we'd have to break apart, we'd have to face the police and answer an endless stream of questions, but for the moment, in my best friends' arms, I was safe.

{/}

Julian Sweetwater was rescued from the rubble eight hours after the first explosion. He would have burn scars across his right arm and chest, and had permanently lost the use of his left arm. He will not serve any jail time.

Numerous unidentifiable bodies were found on the scene, but two were found perfectly preserved being held in a refrigerated area underneath the compound. They were identified as William Avery and Jeffrey Jonsom.

Kyle Mitchell's body was never recovered, but it is believed that his remains were burned beyond anything recognizable.

Dr. Emily Amherst ended up being the doctor on call almost every single time later that one or more of the boys needed to be rushed to the emergency room. She got to know them all quite well, especially Logan, whom she let ply her for answers to all his medical questions.

Officer Henderson wrapped up the case, and was given a commendation by his superior officer. He went on in life to marry the woman of his dreams and have three kids, all boys.

**Originally, there wasn't this little epilogue thingy tacked on the end, but you guys all loved Julian so much that I couldn't just leave him buried under the rubble. This is it, the end of "Burned." Don't look for me too soon. I promised my sister I'd write her a James fic, plus I think I'm going to actually write a few chapters of a story before I just impulsively post something. As always, leave me a review and thanks one more time for all the support!**


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